"Sweet Lady! know the Soul looks through our eyesights! Content lives not in shews or beauty seeing! Peace, not from number, nor strength in high spirits! Joy dies with Virtue, yet lives in Virtue's being! Beauty is masked, where Virtue is not hidden! Man still desires that fruit, he's most forbidden! "Jewels, for virtue, not for beauty prized! What's seldom seen breeds wonder, we admire it! King's lines are rare, and therefore well advised. Wise men, not often talk, Fools still desire it. Women are books! Kept close, they hold much treasure; Unclasped, sweet ills! Most woe lies hid in pleasure. "Who studies Arts alike, can he prove Doctor? Who surfeits, hardly lives! drunkards recover! Whose will's his law, that conscience needs no Proctor! When men turn beasts, look there for brutish lovers! Those eyes are pore-blind, look equally on any Though't be a virtue to hinder one by many. "Who gains by travel, lose Lordships for their Manors, Must TARQUIN ravish some? Hell on that glory! Whose life's in healths, death soonest gains those banners! Lust still is punished, though Treason write the story! A rolling eye, a globe, new worlds discover! Who still wheels round is but a damnèd lover. "Doth Faith and Troth lie bathing? Is Lust, pleasure? Can commons be as sweet as land enclosed? Then virgin sin may well be counted pleasure! Where such lords rule, who lives not ill-disposed! True Love's a Phœnix, but One until it dies: Lust is a Cockatrice in all, but in her eyes." Here did he end more blessed than his wishes. (Fame's at the high, when Love indites the Story) The private life brings with it heavenly blisses. Sweet Contemplation much increaseth glory. I'll leave him to the learning of Love's spell! "Better part friends, that follow fiends to hell!" ISMENIO, with VITULLIA went together, Perhaps both wounded with blind CUPID'S dart; Yet durst they not relate their love to either, Love if once pitied, pierceth to the heart: But, sure, VITULLIA is so fair a mark, CUPID would court her, though but by the dark. ARTESIA, she must go, the more She's grieved, To churlish STRYMON, her adopted Mate; CUPID, though blind, yet pitied and relieved This modest Lady with some happy fate. For what but Virtue, which doth all good nourish, Could brook her fortunes, much less love and cherish. EURIALÆ, with good URANIA stayed, Where Virtue dwells, they only had their being; Beauty and Wit still fear, are not dismayed, For where they dwell, Love ever will be prying. These two were one. All good, each could impart. One was their fortune, and one was their heart.